Lorenz and Friends

One-on-one often beats a full-court press

My friend, Karen, who is much younger than I and still has young children at home, recently reminded me of something very important that I'd forgotten. The power of one-on-one. It seems that in a weak moment she told her kindergarten-age son, Jack, that he could stay home from school one day when he wasn't even sick. She even let him plan all the activities which included a bike ride with Mom, playing with puzzles with Mom, reading books with Mom, a special trip to the grocery store with Mom during which Jack got to choose all the cereal and snack foods, and a rousing game of soccer with Mom. It turned out to be Jack's most perfect day ever, he announced at bedtime.

When I read Karen's essay about her day with Jack I thought back to my own childhood. I loved both of my parents but I honestly can't remember many truly special times when the whole family was involved.

What I do remember are the times I was alone with my dad. Like the time I stood around watching, chatting and learning while he made me a pair of adjustable stilts. Or the winter nights when we designed and built a kite that had a 6-foot span at its widest point. That turquoise and white striped kite never did fly. Something about the polished cotton we used was just too heavy, Dad said, but it didn't matter. What I loved were the hours spent in the planning and building of it, alone with my Dad.

Then there were the long Saturday mornings when he'd take me along on his rural mail route. Four hours with both of us crammed into the old VW bug midst bags and boxes of mail, sashaying up and down 50 miles worth of country roads. In my early teen years he'd even let me drive sometimes. I can still hear him, "Don't get so close to the mailboxes!"

I must have passed on my love of one-on-one to my own children because one time I asked my daughter Julia to describe her favorite birthday party or celebration of her youth. "Oh that's easy," she burst forth immediately without even thinking. "It was my 16th birthday and you let me skip school and you and I spent the whole day together. We went out to lunch, then you took me shopping for a new watch. I was in shock the whole day because you let me skip school. It was fabulous!"

All four of my kids remember the one-on-one holiday shopping trips we took when they were school age. I'd give each child a whole Saturday with me alone. We not only shopped for some of their own gifts if they were teens but also for the gifts they wanted to give others. The day-long adventure included lunch and sometimes a movie if we had enough time.

Now that I'm a grandma of almost six, I am always a bit overwhelmed when I'm in the same room with all of them at the same time. That's why I decided when they were very young to schedule two to three day one-on-one visits with one grandchild at a time. Since they all live out of town, the tradition begins as soon as they turn 3 years of age, old enough to be away from Mom and Dad overnight. Whether we're drawing animals on the driveway with sidewalk chalk, lying in the hammock staring at the clouds, building towers with blocks, reading books or taking in their first movie ever, those one-on-one days with my grandchildren have the makings for lifelong memories for all of us.

Last Christmas I joined my sister from Illinois and my brother from Kentucky and their spouses and children and the eight of us spent Christmas week in Key West, Florida. We sunned, funned, explored, dined, walked, went to three beaches, rented bikes for four days, visited an island, played a rousing game of Tripoly one night and generally had the time of our lives. But I have to say that the most magical of times on that trip, for me at least, were the late afternoons when my brother Joe and I would still feel like biking when the others wanted to hit the hotel for a swim or go shopping. So Joe and I would continue exploring on the bikes for at least another hour. One day we stopped at the oldest bar in Florida, ordered a beer and just chatted like a couple of college kids. Those few minutes of one-on-one with my only brother were among my favorites of the trip.

There definitely is something to be said for one-on-one. It's the glue that binds. The stuff that makes memories that last. It's two people giving each other 100 percent. No wonder God started with just Adam and Eve.

(Lorenz shares her art-of-living words at many professional speaking events and retreats. E-mail her at patricialorenz@juno.com.)